


Human and Stupid

by Amyrat151



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Bottom Dean, Bunker Fic, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Phone Sex, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Top Castiel, porn with little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 15:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amyrat151/pseuds/Amyrat151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam have left the bunker on a case. Cas struggles with his feelings of loneliness. Set sometime after the end of the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human and Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt ever at any kind of porn, so I'm a bit nervous about posting it.

Castiel felt annoyed as he pointed a 9mm handgun at the target that was 25 yards away. He could never get the shot he wanted from that distance. If Sam were here he would offer the fallen angel the human cliché of “practice makes perfect,” which Cas found less than encouraging. It was stupid; it was human and stupid for him to need to practice anything. He put the gun down and sighed. Castiel knew that it was no use getting frustrated; in fact it was counterproductive. Spending all that effort getting worked up and angry at himself and a piece of metal designed to launch projectiles would do no one any good. What he needed to do was “take a breath, relax, and try again,” his mind quoted. Dean had offered that piece of wisdom when Cas hit his thumb with a hammer while helping Dean hang up frames in their room. Castiel picked up the gun again and turned the safety on. It was no good. His lack of patience with his marksmen skills was only a symptom, not the problem itself. The problem was that he missed Dean.

Castiel had no idea it would hurt so much to have Dean be away from the bunker. Charlie had found them a case, what appeared to be a regular haunting only 75 miles away. Castiel had told the brothers that since he still wasn’t very adept at hunting, or rather talking to most people, he should stay home. Also, Charlie, some of her most trusted friends, and Sam had taken on the huge task of cataloguing and reorganizing not only the Men of Letters library, but all of Bobby’s and the Campbell’s books and journals. Castiel was starting to feel a little guilty about not helping out more. At the time it had seemed perfectly reasonable for Dean to go and Castiel to stay, but reason wasn’t much comfort to him when Dean was almost all he could think about.

The case was the brothers’ first hunt in the three months after they killed Lucifer and Heaven and Hell had been put back into an agreeable order. In the meantime, the Winchester brothers and Cas had given themselves a break. Cas was spending most of his time with Dean these days. Dean taught Castiel how to cut onions without crying, what all the cycles on washing machines mean, and what a spark plug does. He also started what he liked to call “Pop Culture 101” by showing Cas his favorite movies. Even if Cas didn’t care much for the movie, he could snuggle into the other man’s side and appreciate how amazingly lucky he was. He was alive, happy, and in love. And if the movie was especially uninteresting Cas might crawl into Dean’s lap, twist his finger’s in Dean’s light brown hair, and lightly bite his bottom lip before running his tongue across it. That was usually all it took to get Dean in an amorous mood. “I’m a cheap date,” he liked to say.

Cas laughed to himself a little as he put the 9mm away. Dean had tried to teach Cas how to improve his aim more than once, but when Dean put his hands on the fallen angel, to lower Cas’s arms or adjust his grip, he was reluctant to stop touching Cas. Sam was not pleased when he walked into the shooting range to find Cas pressed up against the wall with his hands down Dean’s pants.

Castiel checked his watch; it was 5:00pm which meant it was a good time to check on the chili he was making. Dean had taken it upon himself to do almost all the cooking in the bunker and with the elder Winchester gone Cas figured he could cook in his stead. Chili was easy. All he had to do was put the ingredients in a slow cooker and set the temperature.

When Castiel got to the kitchen, he saw that Charlie’s friend Bennett was already stirring it. Bennett was a few inches shorter than Castiel with long brown hair that she rarely pulled back. She also had delicate features, brown eyes, and a reluctant smile. She had met Charlie when they both worked for an unethical company that used child labor. Bennett was the one who discovered the company’s highly questionable practices.

“Hi Bennett,” Cas said mildly as he walked towards her. “Thank you for stirring the chili.”

“It was bubbling, by which I mean boiling, of course.” Bennett stated. “You to have stir chili or it might burn to side of the slow cooker pan.”

“Do you make chili often?” Castiel asked.

“No,” Bennett said, sounding a little confused why anyone would ask her if she ever made chili. Castiel more often than not felt awkward around Bennett. It was most likely because neither of them were particularly skilled at social interactions.

“If you would like to go, it’s okay since I’m here now to attend to the food.” Castiel said, hoping he wasn’t implying that she couldn’t stay if she wanted. However, Charlie probably did need her.

Bennett was unmistakably brilliant. She and Charlie had this game where they would come up with hypothetical cases and the other would have to guess what kind of monster had eaten a family in the woods, stolen all the wooden spoons in a victim’s house, or could speak only in rhyme. Bennett beat Charlie almost every time.

“I suppose I will go,” she stated evenly. “You should add more cinnamon, though, about one-fourth of a tea spoon.” Cas preferred to follow recipes exactly and he had already put in all the cinnamon he was supposed to, but Dean always said that all recipes could be modified if you find something you like better.

“I will consider it,” Castiel told her honestly.

“Bye, Castiel,” Bennett said as she left the kitchen.

Cas stirred the thick contents of the pot and looked at the recipe again, checking if he missed anything. He found that he liked cooking; it kept his mind off things and any distraction from the pang of loneliness he felt could only be a good thing. He sighed to himself, feeling foolish. Dean had only been gone for three days. They had been apart for much longer periods of time before. He had spent untold eons without Dean’s company. Cas had no reason to miss Dean this badly. When he had been an angel, spending millennium upon millennium watching the earth he wondered why humans even bothered with romantic love when it caused them so much distress. He had been so painfully naïve. Apparently, love made you wiser and more irrational at the same time.

Cas added more cinnamon.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After a productive evening of restacking shelves and watching _Lord of the Rings_ with Charlie, Cas decided to call Dean. When Dean had left for the hunt he had told Cas that he could call Dean anytime, no matter the reason. Cas figured missing Dean was reason enough. Especially when Cas was lying in bed holding Dean’s pillow, which he had been doing the past few days. The smell of Dean’s hair was starting to fade already. The phone picked up before the second ring was even finished.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said. Cas could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hello, Dean.” And just like that Castiel’s pain was gone. “I just called to talk. I missed you.” Cas heard a soft laugh, the one that usually came out of Dean after Cas was blunt. This laugh was usually followed by soft kiss.

“Ah Cas, as much as I’d like to talk right now, we’re a little busy with some witnesses,” Dean said, trying his best to sound neutral but Cas did detect a hint of disappointment in his voice. Castiel couldn’t help but sigh.

“Well then, call back when you can talk.” Castiel did hate it, more than a little bit, that he sounded like a child being denied a coveted toy or favorite dessert, but another part of him couldn’t be bothered to care. It was a greedy, demanding thing telling him that he wanted Dean and he wanted him now, the rest of world be damned. Dean laughed again, this time it sounded a little pained and tried.

“Cas, I will call you the second I can.” Dean promised. Cas felt a little better, not only because Dean would call but because he suspected that Dean might be missing him just as much.

“Yes, please do even if it’s at 4 am and I’m asleep. I’ll turn the volume up on my phone to make sure I wake up,” Cas told Dean with complete sincerity.

“I’ll call even if it’s 4 am,” Dean said and it sounded like he was smiling again. “Listen, Sam is signaling. He’s got something.”

“Of course, kick it in the ass, Dean,” Cas said in an encouraging voice. As much as he missed Dean, the work they did would always be more important because lives literally depended on it.

“Always do, baby,” Dean said in his cocky voice that Cas couldn’t help but roll his eyes at a little.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I know,” Dean replied automatically. “And I will call.”

Cas smiled as he said, “Good night, Dean.” After Dean wished him the same, Cas hung up and rolled over. He drifted off to sleep with his face buried in Dean’s pillow.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It felt like Castiel had only just fallen asleep when he jerked awake to the sound of his buzzing phone playing _Eight Days a Week_. Cas groped around his nightstand for the singing piece of plastic and it took what felt like half a minute to find it. Cas didn’t even look at the caller ID before he pressed the call button and put it to his ear.

“Have trouble finding your phone?” Dean asked in a teasing voice, not bothering to give a proper greeting. Cas rolled his eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, deciding not to answer the other man’s question. He heard what sounded like a series of cars passing by. Cas guessed that Dean was outside, probably in the Impala for privacy. “I was asleep.”

“I figured as much,” Dean said before taking a pause and adding, “I miss you too, you know?”

“I figured as much,” Cas teased back and Dean snorted at his comment. “How’s the case, did you figure out who the ghost is?”

Dean sighed, and sounding quite annoyed said, “We thought we did. Followed the local lore to some chick who got killed before her wedding 80 years ago but it wasn’t her.”

“Why didn’t you call before if you’d thought you got her?” Cas asked. However, he was glad Dean didn’t since, thinking he was going to get Dean back only to learn that wasn’t the case would have been really disheartening.

“I thought it might be a nice surprise to just come home,” Dean said. Cas could imagine him shrugging. “Well, whatever we still don’t know.”

“We could go over the evidence and the reports together, maybe I’ll see something you and Sam didn’t.” Cas didn’t expect laughter to be Dean’s answer.

“Dean, why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s 3 am, we haven’t seen each other in three days, and you want to talk about work?” Dean sounded exasperated but Cas couldn’t figure out why.

“What else would we talk about right now?” It made sense to Cas. If he could help Dean and Sam figure out what wayward spirit was wreaking havoc on the town near Topeka, then the brothers could come home.

“Let’s start with what you’re wearing,” Dean said casually.

Cas turned on the lamp on his nightstand to look down at himself because he honestly couldn’t remember what sweat pants and t-shirt he had grabbed to sleep in. It turned out to be a pair of grey sweat pants and a Star Wars t-shirt. Both pieces of clothing were Dean’s, and Cas told Dean as much.

“I love when you wear my clothes, you know. I love that when I put them back on, I can smell you. It makes me hard,” Dean said in a low, husky voice. The fallen angel felt himself flush.

Before Cas could come up with any sort of reply Dean asked, “What would you do if I was there, right now?”

“I would kiss you,” Cas replied automatically. He had been imagining the moment he saw Dean again all day. Castiel thought about how it would feel when he pulled the other man into an embrace and pressed their lips together.

“And what would you do after that?” Dean prompted and Castiel smiled, he had imagined what came after the welcome home kiss, too.

“Push you down on the bed; get you on your back. I would spread your legs so I could get in between them. I’d grind my hips into yours until we’re both hard.” The fallen angel closed his eyes, pretending that Dean was there beside him and not miles away in his car next to a Kanas highway.

Dean hummed with pleasure. “It’s really fucking hot when you get a little rough, baby. I’m right there with you, moving my hands up your back, scratching, getting my shirt off you.” Dean’s voice was breathy and intense.

Cas strongly suspected that Dean was touching himself. Cas slid his own hand down his stomach to his own half-hard dick. He caressed himself though his sweatpants and let out a sharp breath.

“I’m lifting up your shirt Dean, to find your nipples. I think I’ll lick one while I pinch the other, I can multi-task.” Cas received the laugh he was hoping for from the other man.

“Yeah, you sure as fuck can. I’m slipping my hands down your pants, grabbing the cheeks of your exceptional ass, and grinding us together a little harder.” As Dean talked, Cas continued to rub the bulge between his legs, bringing his erection to its full hardness.

“You’d be touching my bare ass, since I’m not wearing any underwear,” Cas said with a wicked grin, even though Dean couldn’t see it. Dean let out a surprised moan, but before he could say anything, Castiel continued. “After I take off your shirt, I’m kissing my way down your stomach to the hem of your pants. I’m unbuttoning and unzipping your pants slowly. You know I like to see you squirm, just a little.”

“Jesus fuck, Cas. You’re driving me crazy,” Dean gasped.

Cas pulled his sweatpants down over his ass and hissed as his erection bobbed against his borrowed t-shirt, pre-come already dribbling down the side. Cas shivered as the rush of cold air hit his hot skin. Castiel took himself into his hand and gave his erection an experimental jerk. He thought about how Dean would look under him, flushed and moaning and unguarded. It was a miraculous sight, and it was for Castiel alone.

“I took off your pants, but I’m only moving the hem of your boxers to the side so I can look at your hip bones. They’re so sexy, did you know that? I could spend hours licking, sucking, and kissing those fucking hip bones. Are the bruises I left from last week still there?”

Those particular bruises had been left on Dean’s skin after he had asked Cas to fuck him from behind. Dean had gripped the headboard and was especially loud as Cas slammed his hips against the hunter again and again. The mental imagine of Dean being so deliciously wanton made Castiel increase the speed of his hand’s rhythm.

“No,” Dean managed to say in between breaths. “They’re gone.”

“Then I guess I’m going to have to suck a bruise or two there. Make sure you’re marked up, make sure there’s no mistake that you’re mine,” Cas growled into the phone, making Dean call out his name. “I’m taking off your boxers and you know what I’m going to do next?”

“Blow me?” Dean asked, voice a little weak.

“No, I’m going to lick you open. Make sure your hole is nice and relaxed before I put my finger in.” Cas let out a groan. As steady as his voice was, his thighs were starting to shake as he snapped his wrist back and forth, twisting his hand around his cock.

“Are you gonna fuck me, Cas? When I get home, are you gonna fuck me? Please say you’re gonna fuck me,” Dean nearly pleaded into the phone.

“Yes, Dean. I’ll give you whatever you want, which is why I’ve already put my finger inside you. Swirling it around, stretching you out so I don’t hurt you when I fuck your tight hole.” Cas looked down and watched as the skin of his engorged flesh moved in and out of place before he brought his hand up to thumb the slit on the head of his cock.

“Please, Cas,” Dean called out, not even bothering to hide the naked need in his voice. “Please!”

“I took off my pants and I’m sliding into you, slow and sweet Dean. I always want to savor how good you feel around me, how amazing it is that I get to be with you like this.” Cas almost sobbed. He had yet to get used to the feeling that came right after their joining. It made him feel grounded and safe and like he was flying all at the same time. It was pure, it was real, and it was his. “I’m taking my time with you, Dean. I’m fucking you slowly, kissing you. Telling you how beautiful you are.”

“Cas, I love you,” Dean panted out, “I really...really fucking l-l-love you.”

Cas closed his eyes and felt Dean’s words hit him like they were a physical thing. Dean didn’t say those three words very often but when he was in Cas’s arms, he just let it all go. Cas squeezed himself gently and blew out a long moan. Dean answered back with a series of chants of Cas’s name. However, Cas didn’t want to come just yet. He and Dean hadn’t finished the fantasy they made together.

“I’m finding your sweet spot Dean and once I’ve found it, I’m going to pound into you like I know you want me to. We’re making the bed shake; the head board is bouncing against the wall.” Cas took a moment to laugh and Dean joined in.

“The people in the bunker are gonna be fucking pissed, but I could care less.” Cas could hear Dean taking a big breath, as if to steady himself. “I’m pulling you down against me so I can bite... into… y-your shoulder.”

“I’m slipping my hand in between us and taking you into my hand. I can tell you’re close, Dean and it’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” Cas pumped himself up and down, got himself teetering over the edge and said, “Come, Dean. Come for me.”

Cas knew he had been successful when he heard a long, satisfied moan from the green-eyed hunter, during which Castiel also found his own release. Letting the noises that Dean was making wash over him, Cas threw his head back against his pillow and shouted out as his orgasm flowed over him like a wave. For moments, who could really guess how many, he felt like he was weightless, with no concerns or past sins weighing him down. He smiled. Castiel knew this feeling well; he felt it often when he and Dean had sex.

Cas looked over at Dean’s side of the bed and was brought down more harshly than he’d like to reality. He breathed out a sigh and looked down at himself and frowned. His shirt was now covered in ropes of his own semen. He’d have to find another one to sleep in.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean breathed. “Are you still with me?”

“I’m here,” Cas said once he had regained his voice.

“God, I really fucking miss you. I wish I could kiss you like I always do after we come.” Dean sounded more sad than frustrated.

“I know, I do too. But it’s okay, Dean. You and Sam are going to find that ghost, salt and burn the bones, and come home, and I’ll be here waiting when you do.” Cas hoped he sounded more encouraging then he felt in that moment. Now that he and Dean had finished their fantasy, Castiel was left alone in bed without Dean’s strong arms to hold him. However, at least one of them should probably be strong right now and whining about how far apart they were wouldn’t help either of them. “Just think of coming home as motivation to get the case done.”

Dean let out a long breath. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Dean paused and laughed a little. “You know Sam has been bitching at me all day today, saying I need to stop moping and focus.”

“Remind me when you get home just how stupid it was for me to suggest that it would be completely fine for you to go on a hunt without me,” Cas said as he got up, in search of another shirt.

“Hey, I agreed. But yeah, it was pretty damn stupid so yes, I’ll remind you. I’ll remind you when you’re fucking me. Should make an impression,” Dean teased.

“Dean, I plan on making you forget your own name when I see you again, let alone my foolishness.” Cas pulled on a different shirt and snuggled back into bed.

“Maybe we can make a game out of it. If I manage to tell you how stupid you were as you fuck me, I win. If I can’t because you’re really on your game, you win,” Dean said thoughtfully.

“What does the winner get?” Cas yawned as he turned off the lamp.

“Hopefully by the time we’re done neither of us will care either way,” Dean said, almost sounding wistful. He did have a point, though. Cas grossly underestimating how much they would miss each other would stop mattering once they were together again.

“I love you, Dean. Sometimes I can’t believe that we’re really together,” Cas told Dean with more conviction than a person can usually handle at 3 am.

“I know what you mean, but being the world’s biggest fuck-ups, I guess we only could end up together. I mean, who else would have us?” Humor was mostly how Dean’s self-deprecation manifested itself these days. “And I love you, too, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean. Try not to annoy Sam and focus on the case.”

Dean sighed. “What the hell, I’ll give it a shot. Good night, Cas.” Castiel hung up the phone, grabbed Dean’s pillow and fell back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to my awesome beta, Natalie. And anyone gets a cookie if you can guess were Bennett is from :). Also please remember comments on curacy so please drop a coin or two even if you tell me it sucked a little.


End file.
